“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?” – Matthew 7:3
Saturday at King Canary, seven-year-old boys threw rocks at strangers on a deck. When corrected, one child’s response was defiant: “We don’t need to stop. My dad will beat his dad’s a**.”
It would be easy to shake our heads at such childhood behavior, but how often do we throw our own stones? Not literal rocks, but words on social media. Assumptions about people we’ve never met. Quick judgments based on limited information.
The bias quiz from Sunday’s message isn’t just an exercise—it’s a mirror. When we encounter someone whose gender we can’t determine, whose accent sounds unfamiliar, whose politics differ from ours, what stones are we already picking up in our minds?
Sunday afternoon, upon arriving home, I watched Charlie Kirk’s memorial service. I had no intention of doing so. But when I turned on Hulu looking for football I noticed three major stations were carrying the service live. Because I am trying to learn and respect sides other than mine, I tuned in. I’m so glad I did.
I listened to his family, his friends, his colleagues share stories of a man I had never met. And I learned something profound: when we take the time to truly see someone—beyond our political disagreements—we discover a human being.
As I watched several of Kirk’s videos afterward, I realized his interpretation of Scripture differs significantly from mine. His approach to faith and politics takes paths I wouldn’t choose. But in his own words, which he used often, he believed in choosing “words and not weapons” to debate, question, and understand.
Even when I disagreed with his conclusions, I could respect his commitment to dialogue over violence, to conversation over conquest.
The child at King Canary wasn’t just throwing rocks; he was throwing the stones he’d learned to throw at home. “My dad can beat his dad’s a**” reveals a worldview where differences are threats, where being corrected means going to war.
But what if, instead of reaching for stones when we’re uncomfortable, we reached for curiosity? What if our first response to difference wasn’t defense but interest? What if we chose Kirk’s approach of “words and not weapons”?
Jesus looked at the people actively participating in his death and said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.” Even in his final moments, he chose understanding over retaliation.
Reflection Questions:
- What unconscious biases might be hiding in my heart that I haven’t examined?
- When I encounter difference or discomfort, is my first impulse to throw stones or to understand?
- How can I model a different response than the “my dad can beat up your dad” mentality?
Prayer: God, help me see the stones in my own hands before I notice the ones others are throwing. Give me the courage to examine my hidden biases and the grace to choose curiosity over judgment. When I’m corrected or challenged, let my response be humility, not defiance. Make me an agent of understanding in a world quick to pick up stones. Amen.
Grace and Peace,
Andrea